


in the mud for you

by parishilton



Category: Big Brother RPF
Genre: Comeplay, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Pining, Public Sex, Sharing Clothes, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 10:37:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2425637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parishilton/pseuds/parishilton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>zach is wearing frankie's grandfather's vintage christian dior shirt on finale night and he's never been so fucking afraid of spilling a drink or snagging a loose thread in his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the mud for you

**Author's Note:**

> title from the song "i'm finding it harder to be a gentleman" by the white stripes. ('well, i never said i wouldn't throw my jacket in the mud for you, but my father gave it to me... so maybe i should carry you.')

zach is wearing frankie's grandfather's vintage christian dior shirt on finale night and he's never been so fucking afraid of spilling a drink or snagging a loose thread in his life. it's way more crucial that he keeps it in pristine condition than the tom ford bowtie that frankie had let him wear. he knows this shirt of his grandfather's means _so_ much to frankie, even though they barely had time to discuss the significance before they were ushered apart to separate hotels after frankie's mere thirty-six hours in jury.

they were never truly alone in the big brother house and they were never truly alone in jury, with everyone roaming around and looking for other people to talk to.

zach had been in his bedroom with frankie, struggling to find the sleeve of the shirt to fit his arm into when frankie had come up behind him, helping zach slip into it. he wrapped his arms around zach from behind for a minute, kissing the back of zach's neck, before he had come back in front of zach to help him button it.

"my grandpa used to be the only man in my life," frankie had said softly, mumbling almost, because they could both hear the footsteps of someone approaching. "but now i have you."

zach had to turn his head to the side so his ear could catch what frankie had said, and when he realized the significance of the statement, wanted to get him to explain further, but nicole had walked into zach's room to watch zach try on his clothing options for finale.

zach had always liked nicole, but he wished she would leave so frankie could explain what he meant by zach being _the man in his life_ , but she had already made herself comfortable perched on the bed, watching them with a bowl of ice cream in her hands.

zach had raised his chin up so frankie could do the top button and he hoped he wouldn't rip a seam or sweat into the fabric.

* * *

 

zach has a _thing_ about personal hygiene, especially where frankie is concerned.

there were too many times to count in the house where zach would shower specifically because he knew he would be sharing a bed with frankie later on and wanted to smell good and feel _clean_. even when they would joke around in bed, zach would sometimes get nervous about his hygiene and ask "can i brush my teeth first?"

it's just that frankie is _so_ clean - his hair is always soft, his skin glows with the concealer he wears, and his fingernails are always clipped and polished.

it intimidates zach to know how well frankie looks after his own body with push-ups and watching what he eats, and he says he shaves _everything_. zach hasn't been able to shave himself since he came into the house because the razors are too damn dull. he knows frankie likes masculine guys because he always says so, but zach has dirt under his nails and so much hair on his crotch and he doesn't want frankie to think he's a complete slob just because he's masculine.

one night when zach is playing pool with cody, he loses control of his mouth like he's always finding himself doing. his lack of filter is normally only a slight inconvience to him, except when it comes to frankie. then, it's a full-blown crisis because he says _way_ too much.

frankie is hugging cody goodnight for way too long in zach's opinion. zach says "hey!" to get his attention and, when frankie doesn't notice, huffs, and says it again. frankie looks at him finally from cody's arms.

"my homosexual level is literally going up by the _second_ ," zach professes. _god_ , he just wants frankie to look at him, frankie to touch him, frankie to talk to him. sometimes he thinks he'll do or say anything to get his attention. his body thrums with impatience and jealousy and craving.

frankie looks at him shrewdly, like he can see right through zach, and it actually calms zach's nerves to see that frankie _knows_ how he feels, that frankie knows he's making zach jealous and should try to fix it.

zach flattens himself out on the pool table so frankie will follow suit, and he does, rounding the table with a jovial skip to come stand behind zach. he playfully smacks zach's ass before reaching down the waistband of zach's cargo shorts to touch his dick.

zach panics because he's not clean-shaven and he feels like a _mess_ and he doesn't want frankie to think he doesn't care about the way he looks. he pulls away from frankie reluctantly. "i just don't want you to feel the _forest_ that's in my pants," zach explains honestly, "but if it wasn't there, it'd be a different story."

* * *

finale goes by in a blur of scattered confetti and claps on the back from his tv family and zach soon finds himself in the backyard doing interview after interview.

he had realized five minutes after taking the stage with the rest of the jurors that he'd had to piss and halfway through his interview with rachel reilly it was starting to really bother him. he regrets nervously chugging all that water back at the hotel when he was getting dressed alone, wondering how far from his hotel frankie was. he focuses on his interview with rachel and puts it to the back of his mind because he's having fun being the center of everyone's attention - everyone, that is, except frankie.

frankie is the only person with more people going up to him than zach, even more than derrick, who just _won_. he's full of energy, like he always is when he has an attentive audience, and zach sort of wants to leave his own interview to watch frankie conduct his.

once he finishes his interview with rachel, he goes on to jeff, who tells him that production has already locked the door to the house with a charming laugh. he clearly doesn't realize how dire the situation actually is, so zach smiles along like his bladder isn't about to burst, trying to focus on what jeff is telling him. jeff asks how he felt when he heard he was _that_ close to winning america's favorite and zach feels on top of the world.

all he wants to do is push past these tabloid twits and get to frankie. he feels like every question he gets asked he could better respond to if frankie was there with him. frankie's presence settles his anxiety and he trusts frankie's word choice when it comes to the media over his own.

zach isn't sure what they showed on tv, but he guesses a _lot_ by the questions he's getting. it's a slimy job and they all want to be the one to trick zach into admitting he's gay for their stupid blogs or gossip columns.

the truth is, zach doesn't feel _gay_ , just in love with frankie, and there's no way zach can think of to word that without it giving him away. he's pretty sure if he offered to let frankie step in and do this interview for him, he probably would. zach remembers telling victoria he was bi, just to get someone's reaction to it, and she hadn't been that surprised.

but telling victoria is _nothing_ like telling a gossip site and he doesn't think he'll ever be able to say those words to somebody with a clear ulterior motive. he wishes frankie would just take the reigns _for_ him, because zach doesn't trust his own mouth sometimes.

he's also impatient and he childishly hates when frankie gives other people attention. zach spent the first half of the summer fighting for frankie's attention over caleb and cody and the second half being stuck in the jury house with nothing to do but hope, selfishly, that frankie would show up soon.

* * *

everybody in jury was _positive_ that it was going to be caleb or victoria walking through the door, but zach had a tight feeling in his stomach telling him that it was going to be frankie. he couldn't tell if it was just his nerves, but he felt almost like he needed to pee, and he was on high alert like a toy dog with a weak bladder.

every other week, zach stayed in the backyard in his lounge chair, because he knew frankie would never go until christine was out first. when christine had showed up, nobody was waiting for her in the house and she had been forced to awkwardly find her way through the house to the backyard, where everyone ignored her when she came out. zach knew in the pit of his stomach that it was _frankie_ riding in the limo to jury, _frankie_ about to walk through the door any minute, and he wanted to greet him away from the cameras.

everybody else had stayed in the backyard, except for zach, who was anxiously bouncing up and down on his heels in the foyer. it had been fifteen minutes since production told them to go wait in the backyard and _that's_ where all the cameras were set up. zach couldn't wait a moment longer.

he went to open the door to wait for the limo to pull up, and he felt _so_ on edge. what if it was caleb or victoria? but zach was right all along; it was frankie.

the limo was already parked in the circular driveway and frankie stepped into the foyer wearing the same pink team zach shirt that zach had gotten for the jury comp and zach couldn't help that he was jumping up and down too much for frankie to hug him.

"stop moving!" frankie yelled before even greeting him, smiling widely. he pressed zach into the wall to hug him and zach had a hard time trying to stop bouncing.

zach squealed excitedly. _frankie_ was finally here, _frankie_ was finally next to him, _frankie_ was finally hugging him. he didn't realize he was actually repeating frankie's name over and over until frankie jokingly let him know.

"zach, zach, zach," frankie imitated with a grin, rubbing zach's lower back and kissing his cheek.

zach felt like it wasn't quite right hugging frankie when he could barely reach him, his arms pinned down behind the wall. he quickly freed his arms and used them to hug frankie tighter, lifting frankie a few inches off the ground before frankie happily wound his legs around zach's waist.

zach started jumping again and frankie was maybe yelling at him to stop, but he was laughing while saying it. frankie had to squeeze his arms tightly around zach's neck to not fall, but even as zach was having trouble _breathing_ with frankie's arms suffocating him, it felt right.

then, everybody else was suddenly standing in the hall with them, clearly shocked to see frankie. christine and nicole were already asking frankie how he was, while hayden crossed his arms across his chest and winked at zach, making zach want to disappear, because he was still holding frankie.

donny smirked. "we thought we heard some screamin' and we figured zach wouldn't be _that_ happy about seein' victoria."

zach went red and let frankie back down gently. he hadn't really been _screaming_ , had he? luckily, everybody rushed over to greet frankie, and they didn't notice. even after he got to hug frankie and pick him up, zach was still insanely annoyed with everybody stealing frankie's attention away from him.

* * *

"zach, do you want to do the amazing race with me?" frankie calls from a few feet away, in the middle of another interview, and zach almost _squeals_ he's so excited about frankie finally acknowledging him.

he races over to where frankie is standing and suddenly there's a huge light stuck in his face as blinding as a meteor coming right for him. he knows only to a small extent how popular his and frankie's showmance was, and he knows he should finally retire the flirtatious touching that happened all summer on camera. instead, he ignores all the lights and cameras and focuses on frankie's frenzied, impassioned words about wanting to do the amazing race with him.

"zankie for amazing race. that's a hashtag!" frankie exclaims. "it's been trending." zach feels frankie's arm coming to rest on his shoulder and he's got a dozen or so yellow and lilac bracelets on his wrist that remind zach of easter. his blazer is blindingly white and creaseless. he looks, as usual, much more polished than zach, although zach feels so insanely _proud_ to be wearing grandpa grande's shirt.

"we _are_ doing the amazing race," zach agrees happily. he leans in to kiss frankie's cheek right as frankie ask him to, like their thoughts are in sync, and he guesses if you live with someone for a couple months that's probably to be expected.

frankie makes a happy, surprised noise, like he's starstruck by zach kissing him, and it gives zach an extra burst of confidence when he remembers that frankie actually _is_ into him and he _wasn't_ being fake when he would touch zach in the house like zach had suspected after their fight. frankie's hand has gravitated from his shoulder to his neck, and one of his fingers is playing with zach's ear, which distracts him only somewhat from the fact that he still has to fucking piss.

when the woman who's been interviewing frankie starts bellowing out _"zankie! zankie! zankie!"_ zach is relieved that it allows him to use this as an excuse to bounce up and down. it relieves some of the tension in his bladder and tricks his brain into thinking this is somehow helping him.

unfortunately, the interview ends and the lights and cameras are being dragged away by the camera crew, and zach no longer has any distractions from the fact that he can't find a bathroom.

"zach attack," frankie says, frowning and rubbing his shoulders, "what's wrong?"

zach's knees buckle with how badly he has to go, and fuck, there's still people _everywhere_ and zach doesn't know if he can hold it. he squeezes his eyes shut like maybe if he can't see the people in the backyard then they won't be able to see him. he feels himself let go enough for his jeans to go dark at the zipper, just for one _second_ , and he quickly brings his hand to his groin to cover it.

his eyes go wide when he opens them and he moans in misery. he looks across the backyard, feeling the wetness, and zach has a flashback to otev, the veto competition in this same backyard that he won when he had to dive through water and mud.

frankie and he had just gotten in their worst fight yet and zach had been walking around the house like the living dead, not sleeping or eating or speaking to anyone besides caleb, who just kept telling him to talk to frankie. he _couldn't_ talk to frankie, because what if frankie didn't love zach? what if he _never_ loved zach? what if all of his hugs and kisses had been _fake_?

even through all of this chaos and all the harsh words exchanged between them, frankie had still rooted for him during the competition. zach couldn't really take his eyes off of the mud and the dirt to see frankie rooting for him, but he could hear his voice crystal clear, shouting _"c'mon, zach!"_

he hated to admit it to himself at the time, but he didn't really know how he would have kept up the energy to keep running through the heavy, sticky mud and diving into the water face-first without knowing frankie still wanted zach to stay in the house with him.

the best part was after he _won_ and victoria put the veto around his neck and frankie was bouncing up and down beside him. "hug me!" he commanded, firmly, like he was afraid zach wouldn't do it, and frankie would look stupid in front of the whole house.

zach had looked down at his green hawaiian print shirt and all the dirt caked into it and his hair was actually _dripping_ still with water running down his face. "i'm all wet," he had murmured with embarrassment, because the last thing he had wanted to do was soil frankie's clothes. but his heart had clenched when frankie had wrapped his arms around him and hugged him anyway.

"i don't care!" frankie had exclaimed, pulling him in tightly.

zach snaps out of it and realizes he's been standing in front of frankie with a vacant, terrified expression for probably five minutes.

frankie has both hands on either of zach's arms and he's shaking him gently. "zach? are you okay?"

he's still wearing frankie's grandfather's vintage christian dior shirt, with the top three buttons left undone by frankie's request. he's so terrified of getting it wet, he's so scared it will smell like his piss forever if the hem of it drags across his lap.

he feels the slickness of his underwear and the heaviness of his jeans right in the groin, and it disgusts him to feel so dirty. all he wants to do is find a fucking bathroom, and _soon_ , because starting and stopping is uncomfortable and zach strains to keep holding it in after he's already started to go.

zach carefully moves his hand back down to his side so frankie can see the wet patch. "um."

"oh, _zach_ ," frankie murmurs, almost sounding disappointed, "are you drunk?"

"no!" zach promises. how drunk would he even have to be to piss himself? "i'm - excited. i've had to go for _hours_. i got too excited and, just, lost control." zach wants to disappear. _god_ , what will frankie think of him now? can you ever come back from seeing someone you have a crush on wetting themselves? will frankie ever look at him with adoration again?

" _excited_?" frankie asks. "about what?"

zach feels his cheeks go pink and he drops his head so frankie can only see the tip of his nose and his fluffy hair. "you called me over."

there's silence for quite a while and zach is afraid that frankie is about to call him pathetic and stalk off, but instead, frankie slowly squashes himself up into zach's personal space. "here," he says, "now nobody will be able to see your waist."

zach nods frantically. "thanks. thank you, frankie." he lifts off the heels of his feet and then touches back down. "do you think there's a bathroom in one of the other cbs lots?"

"you still have to go?" frankie whispers in disbelief.

zach wilts. "yeah, i do. jeff told me they've already locked the door to the house for the night." he can't help but bounce up and down a little, like a disgruntled child waiting in a very long line for the bathroom.

frankie nods like he's lost in thought and zach is panicking, because if frankie doesn't know how to fix this problem, he's _fucked_. frankie fixes all his problems, he cleans up all of zach's messes. how can he _not_ know what to do? "maybe you should just go out toward the parking lot and go behind a tree. it's already getting dark out-"

"no!" zach exclaims. "they'd get _photos_."

frankie shoots him a look of annoyance. "at least take my grandfather's shirt off before that gets wet too," he says, gesturing to zach's damp jeans.

" _frankie_!" zach yelps in humiliation. " _god_!" he fidgets, trying to press his thighs tightly together, but it's not helping.

"what?" frankie asks innocently. "you walked around shirtless for two months here. nobody would think it was that weird."

zach wants to cry. "frankie, _please_ ," he begs, not knowing what he's asking frankie to do. "what should i do? should i go unzip and pee in the corner?"

frankie gapes. "i - _no_! are you crazy? you'll be right out in the open!"

"oh, god," zach moans again. "i'm - i'm going. right now. i can't help it." he watches frankie's eyes drop down to his crotch as his jeans slowly darken in his lap, his inner thighs starting to shake from still trying fruitlessly to not go.

"okay," frankie says finally, sounding resigned, "but this is only because i love you." he turns his back on zach, using himself as a shield between zach and all the camera men and reporters. zach tries to walk close enough to frankie so nobody will see his groin, but far enough away that he's not going to get the back of frankie's shorts wet.

they make it to the back corner by the last window and zach's legs tremble from having to go so badly. he's got both his hands on either of frankie's shoulders, still doing his best to stave this off. part of him knows that there is literally no bathroom anywhere near them and there isn't _going_ to be anytime soon, so he should just get it over with quickly.

"zach," frankie grits out, sharply and under his breath, "this looks really bad. we look like we're about to hook up and there are, like, thirty camera men here." he backs zach up against the window, the awning shading them from all the activity in the backyard.

zach knows from watching behind the scenes videos on youtube that the windows are actually one way mirrors which production uses for the live feeds. he's thankful the feeds aren't up anymore, especially with frankie pressing him harshly into the glass. zach knows the awnings are mostly concealing zach, but frankie must look ridiculous standing under them with zach.

" _go_!" frankie orders under his breath. "somebody is going to come over with a camera if we stand here all night."

zach knows he was literally pissing his pants thirty seconds ago, but now that frankie is pressuring him, he's panicking again. what if one of those reporters that they'd talked to actually _did_ come up to them? he knows it looks like a compromising position - frankie's grip on his hips is tight and zach's loosely hanging his hands onto frankie's forearms.  
  
he looks behind frankie's shoulders and can't breathe. he's so scared they'll be seen.

"can i turn around?" zach whispers. he's so humiliated. he wants to spare himself even more embarrassment by avoiding frankie seeing him piss in his jeans.

frankie shakes his head. "no. when we're facing each other like this, it looks like we could just be talking and joking around. if you turn around, it'll look like i'm trying to fuck you against the window." he smiles gently, one of his hands leaving zach's hip to pat his cheek and tug his earlobe.

zach starts to giggle nervously and the discomfort melts away, his body unclenching enough for him to start going again. he braces himself with his fists locked around frankie's back. he feels like a caged animal - there are cameras and tri-pods and microphones and boom lights everywhere. they're surrounded.

"nobody can see," frankie promises, one hand still at his ear, one pressing his hips to the window. zach wants to believe this, but there's no way frankie is one hundred percent sure. zach can picture the gossip column headlines in the morning. he can picture the embarrassing twitter hashtags by tomorrow.

he can't believe he's pissing in his jeans. it's disgusting and dirty and zach hates feeling like this in front of _frankie_ of all people. it figures he would only be comfortable enough to let frankie see him like this when frankie is also the only person here he has ever cared to impress. he's still so worried about the vintage christian dior shirt. _fuck_ , what if it stained?

frankie doesn't seem as concerned for the state of his shirt at the moment. it seems all but forgotten as frankie looks zach up and down a little aggressively. zach might be imagining it in his almost drunken state of terror, but it seems that frankie is actually _enjoying_ this. but he definitely won't be when he realizes his grandfather's shirt is about to get soaked along with everything else zach is wearing.

" _frankie_ ," zach whines softly, "hold the shirt up, please."

frankie snaps out of it. " _oh_ , right. okay." he slips one ice cold, clammy hand up zach's side, loosely fisting the material of the shirt so it balls up at his chest. frankie hums and traces his fingers intimately down zach's abs as zach feels the denim getting heavier on his legs.

zach shivers and cowers behind the awnings, hoping he's completely invisible to everyone in the backyard. he knows his neon yellow sneakers could probably be seen from mars, though, and frankie's standing so close that his feet are touching zach's. it must look bad, just as bad as frankie was saying. if nobody can see their heads, it must look like they're necking in the corner like horny teenagers.

as zach tries to hide behind frankie as much as possible, hoping desperately that nobody can see how wet his jeans are becoming, frankie looms over him accordingly. frankie is only one or two inches shorter than zach, but it feels like so much more than that. zach feels like a giraffe, all awkward and scrunched up, trying to make his body shrink. he peers over frankie's shoulder, his arms still clinging tightly to frankie's back, and checks to see if it looks like anybody is coming over to them. nobody is.

for a minute, it feels almost nice. he's missed frankie so much. he's missed being able to talk to him and see him, but he's missed frankie touching him even more. this feels so private and intense, knowing frankie is the only person here who knows what's really going on. it's like another secret between them, like one of the many sappy things zach would whisper to frankie in the bird's nest bed at three in the morning that was just meant for _them_ to hear.

frankie's hot breath puffs over zach's neck as zach feels the weight of his jeans sag with the wetness they've been absorbing. "haven't been this close to you in almost a month," frankie muses, possessively holding zach's hip to the window. they had thirty-six hours in jury, but zach knows what he means. this is really _almost_ like finally being alone again. or, alone for the first time, because there's never not been cameras or people around every corner since they've met. "i missed this, zach."

zach has missed this more than he really wants to admit. there are things he wants to do and say that he can't do or say just yet, though. he isn't about to have this important of a conversation while he's letting frankie watch him wet himself. he can't do anything but nod half-heartedly, mouth slightly agape.

he buries his face into frankie's neck and feels the hot wetness trailing down his thighs and soaking his underwear. it's so filthy and _unlike_ zach that it makes his head spin with the strangeness of it. he wants to peel his jeans and underwear off, but he's still pissing, and there's no way he could change without anybody noticing, even if he _had_ other clothes.

"you know, i've done a lot of weird things," frankie says with his mouth pressed into zach's hair, gently petting down his back. "not this, though."

zach shudders. his skin is feverish with the warmth of his piss down his legs and the physical reaction he's having to being so close to frankie after so long of missing this closeness. "it's not hot, though. i practically _pissed_ on you," zach says with a guilty expression.

frankie's bare legs in his shorts look dry, which is some kind of miracle with the way he was pressing himself into zach to block him so other people wouldn't see. but he seems to not care about getting wet as he digs one hand past zach's slippery wet waist and down his underwear. "isn't it, though?" he argues, nuzzling the top of zach's head with his face.

zach isn't hard, but he can feel that frankie _is_ against his thigh. frankie pulls his hand out of zach's underwear and it looks a little wet, but zach can't tell because frankie's already spitting in his palm, anyway.

"unzip me," frankie requests, stepping in towards zach again. now it's zach's turn to try and conceal what frankie is doing. zach's fingers shake as he lowers them to unbutton and unzip frankie's shorts.

"good," frankie approves, and zach smiles because he just did what frankie asked him to do _right_.

frankie pumps his hand against zach's already wet jeans, his mouth falling open, and he rests his forehead on zach's shoulder when he comes. frankie's grandfather's shirt that zach's still wearing is still rucked up and safely out of harm's way. frankie moans and shoots once, twice, three times onto zach's bare stomach and over his abs. he licks his lips when he pulls away from zach's shoulder and sees the mess he made, smearing the head of his dick across the mess.

the sun has begun to set, but it's still much lighter out than zach would like it to be. he can see the shadows of their bodies under the window awning. zach swallows hard, trying not to get aroused because they're still stuck in the backyard with too many other people. he can't wait to get into the shower back at the hotel where he can wash off his wet legs and wet stomach and jerk himself off. zach is reminded very vividly of a day in the house where frankie offered to bathe him and it doesn't really help zach stay soft.

* * *

it had been a slow day in the big brother house and zach was sitting alone on one of the couches in the living room. donny was in one of the eviction chairs and victoria and christine were opposite zach on the other couch.

frankie had come in, making a spectacle of himself while telling a story, standing in the front of the room before looking to zach. frankie crawled up to zach's side on the couch, leaning into him heavily.

"this is what best friends _do_ ," frankie had said, going off on his usual tangent, "they touch each other in inappropriate places - and get naked and shower."

zach hadn't bathed in a few days and he'd been wearing his gator shirt for way too long, probably had sweat stains in the armpits. _god_ , he he hoped frankie couldn't smell him. "well, speaking of showering, i haven't showered in two days, so...."

"do you want me to do it for you?" frankie asked sweetly, "want me to shower you?"

zach had tried his best not to smile, finding the idea of frankie bathing him really hot, but not wanting anybody else to know that. "yeah," he said, trying to play it cool, but his voice went high and almost broke.

"want me to rub on you, like this?" frankie had asked in his baby's voice, sweetly rubbing over zach's stomach, and zach had giggled.

yeah, he kinda wanted frankie to get him dirty just so he could clean him up after.

**Author's Note:**

> bizach.tumblr.com


End file.
